Plucked
by Motionless Quill
Summary: For years a group of Wesen have run a corporation gathering and selling eggs. Except these eggs aren't what you'd expect. Disguised as a chicken-egg processing company, they aren't in the line of being discovered. That is, until one of their 'hens' escapes. They have sent everything to retrieve the 'hen'. But when you're up against a Grimm, is it really that easy? OCs included
1. Chapter 1: Trial and Error

((AN: Blah! First-ish uploaded story! I'm a lover of Grimm, so this was bound to be born at some point. The idea actually came from a dream...first thing you should know about me, I have extremely vivid dreams. Most of my short, single-chapter stories will probably be because of a dream xD Ahem, anywho...So, review as harshly as you want and point out errors (I studied a Grimm wiki and episodes to get this all correct...blah xD), no stealing OCs (Beatrice, Vincent, Mia belong to yours truly) or the plot idea for that matter. Second chapter pending :D Enjoy you Grimm fans and review till your heart bleeds or whatever. Leon signing out, until next time.)) ((PS: To clear something up, _Eisammler_ means 'Egg Collector' in German. Convience? I think not xD)) ((EDIT: For some odd reason my line breaks failed to load...fixed it with some triple periods. I'll get to the bottom of this...))

**Chapter 1: Trial and Error**

This was all my fault. How could I have let this happen? Something so simple to avoid, and I literally ran right into it. Stupid security systems.

I heard the soft crunching of wet leaves under me, the misty breath of early morning air blowing past me. Where….? Oh right, the forest. I wanted to smack my forehead; of course we were in the forest. But not for long, not for long…

Of course it was my fault. Or maybe not. It could've been our parent's fault. No, I can't blame them. This was my fault. My mistake….my error.

"C'mon, we're almost there, Mia, just a little more." I might as well say _please_, I was already begging her to follow. It was to protect her…just to protect her. My only family.

My little sister fixed her startlingly golden eyes on me, finally resting from analyzing the surrounding area. "Where? And where's Mom?"

Oh god, I wish she hadn't said that…It felt like someone punched me in the chest, my lungs empty of air. I almost fell. Good, almost.

"Mom is…" I pulled in a sharp breath, the jagged end of a branch splicing my cheek with a cut. I held my sleeve up to it with my free hand, almost blindly running forward. "Mia, I didn't want to have to tell you this, but….Mom's dead. Dad too. It's…" I wanted to say "It's all my fault," but the words got stuck in my throat. I was choked of anything to say.

I felt her begin to shake violently, like a leaf in the wind. She was sniffing behind me. Oh god why did I say that.

Streams of light blazed through breaks in the forest roof, almost forming a path of yellow dots for us to follow.

I could hear our ride up ahead, a loading train that would take us somewhere far away from here, with any luck. The three Unbezahlbar I had stolen from them were wrapped in layer upon layer of bubble wrap in my bag. One was my mother's, another given by Marie, the girl we shared a cell with, and the third…we'll put it at a random take. They'd provide for us for a while, and maybe we could get away from this, expose them…

We broke into a clearing, just as the train began its crawl to quick-traveling. I allowed myself a moment to relax, ushering my sister into the nearest open train car. She shrank into one corner, tightly hugging her legs. I grabbed hold of one of the rails, beginning to hoist myself up.

Somewhere nearby a twig snapped, and Mia's eyes widened in fear, her head jerking back as she transformed into a golden-plumed bird. "Beatrice, look out!"

Before I could comprehend her request, a rough hand was clamped over my mouth, dragging me away from the train.

...

_Eisammler! _I should've known! Probably tailing us all along, see how we got out to prevent it from happening again. I almost laughed at the thought. If Mia didn't have me…

My kidnapper flung me against a tree, tying my waist with a stained rope. When he stepped back, my bag in hand, there was enough lag for me to lunge forward, letting loose a string of threats.

He smiled a toothy grin at me, jerking his head back and transforming into a Lausenschlange that I recognized as the second-in-command of the Eisammler community. None other than Vincent Cordell. Ugly as he was vicious.

"Still in second, I see. Eh, Vinny?" I could tell I hit a soft spot, his look of triumph draining away to a bearing of fangs. I tried to shrug against the knots, but my efforts ended in vain.

The smallest of the three scuttled over, no doubt a timid Mauzhertz fearing for his life, and cleared his throat. "S-Shall we get the girl, s-sir?" An irritated look passed over Vinny's face, and that was as much an answer as the Mauzhertz needed. He and the other Wesen began towards the slowly ascending train.

"Pity that we'd get you when you're so…close." He chuckled, rummaging through my bag. When he came upon the Unbezahlbar, he looked at me with a look of mock pride. "If you were my daughter, I'd give praise for good thievery. But you're a Grimm…" I wanted to punch his stupid snake face in while he's ranting about his "glorious catch." Re-catch, thank you very much.

The resistance screams of my sister rang in the background, and the train was getting away. Maybe…

"Hey! Vinny!" His back was to me, but I was just getting started. "You big oaf! I bet you couldn't kill me even if you tried!" I could feel his grin, clearly this wasn't working. But my mind handed me the solution on a silver platter. "You couldn't even kill a _Mauzhertz_!"

His breath stopped short, and he turned towards me, eyes filled with malice. "I can kill Mauzhertz quickly! So easy. And Grimms are easier."

I narrowed my eyes. "Prove it."

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile, and he stepped forward, cutting the rope from around me. "I'll prove it all right." He hissed, lunging at me with an iron ball of a fist.

I dove just under his arm, tucking in and rolling next to my bag just as his fist made contact with the tree. I heard a loud splintering noise, but the missed attack didn't even faze him, and he charged again.

This time, I was ready.

From my bag I produced the weapon that haunted Grimm's nightmares for centuries: the scythe. It was my ironic piece of weaponry, for Reapers had used it since they began to hunt us down. Grimms, that is.

It extended up and the blade swung out, shining with the inscription of _Morden des Grimms_. Meaning, the murderers of me.

I swung outward with it, making contact with Vinny's chest as he tried to halt in his tracks. The result: he was down with a possibly mortal wound.

Now to deal with the two grunts kidnapping my sister.

"Let go of me! Let go!" Mia was hanging between her Seltenvogel self and her human self, her cries switching between human and bird-like with every passing second.

When the Mauzhertz saw me coming, they panicked, and dropped my sister, running for their lives. If anyone knew how we escaped and where we may be going…I wasn't going to let that happen.

I charged at them, the scythe held high until they were in range. With one quick swipe…

I did the best I could to make a display of the two Mauzhertz I severed, putting their heads on sticks and stabbing them into the ground. He had better take care next time.

As I climbed onto the train with my bag plus the cleansed and retracted scythe safely stored away, I almost felt sorry for them. Being pushed around by that Lausenschlange all the time. Hopefully, I sliced deep enough to kill him.

I scooted next to my sister, hugging her close to me and wrapping my coat around her shivering body. I gently ruffled her hair. "Hey, it's going to be ok. You have me, and I have you…"

Those soothing words were just enough to put her in a partial sleeping state, and she cuddled into my chest, her shivering stopping for the night.

With a long struggle, I managed to close the train door just enough so light wouldn't stream in at painful amounts. Mia was still asleep when the job was done, so I had nothing to worry for the moment. Except all the inevitable dangers that came with escaping the Roost.

No doubt those goons weren't the last we'd encounter, and I'd have to come up with a backstory for us and something to tell the police if things got public. If I hadn't been so weary, I would've thought up something then and there. But a warm, fuzzy feeling settled over me, and I drifted off into a dreamless slumber…

...

The Portland City Central Precinct Justice Center was busy, as usual, with crimes that had curious beginnings and endings. Homicide cases kept the detectives busy, and as they say, criminals never sleep.

A tall man in his early to late forties stalked over to two of their detectives, a manila folder held high in his grasp.

"Griffin, Burkhardt, double homicide to keep you occupied." The duo looked up from their work, swinging their coats off their chairs and putting them on instinctively. "Just outside of Forest Park near the train tracks. Sergeant Wu will be there to fill in the details."

Nick Burkhardt nodded to his captain, slipping his cell phone into his pocket. "On it, Captain." Once out of sight, he turned to his partner with a grin. "If people keep dying at this rate, we'll be out of the job."

Hank Griffin smirked, unlocking his car. "I drive this time."

Sergeant Wu led the two detectives around a line of police investigators, leading them towards the main event. "For those with the faint of heart, please leave the premises at once." Seeing the two irresponsive at his joke, he shrugged. "Well alright then."

He led them around a heavy line of shrubbery, where the scent of the crime came before the sight. Hank made a faint sound in his throat at the crime scene: two decapitated bodies side-by-side with their heads stabbed onto sticks.

"Appears to have been running from the killer, but unfortunately got decapitated in the process. A long knife or maybe a sword was used. Something long-ranged and sharp." He paused, poking one head with the butt of his pen. "Just sent someone back with blood samples of each victim." He ushered them back to the clearing, around a pool of blood still seeping into the earth. "There appears to have been two others as well. We found hair samples on that tree there." He pointed to one in particular, one with a cut rope coiled at its base. "And blood pooled right in the center of this clearing."

The duo exchanged glances, walking over to the tree and examining it. "DNA matches pending."

"Lucky for you, the guys down at the lab didn't have anything else to analyze, and have all the suspects matched. Three of them from around here. The fourth is the most interesting." He handed him a file, containing a series of papers.

Nick looked up from the file, staring oddly at Wu. "Are you sure this is correct? Says here she died in a fatal bus explosion ten years ago." On the cover was a picture of the five-year old Beatrice with curly white-blond locks.

...

I didn't realize how long I was asleep until I felt the slightly tugging of my skin on my cheeks, the chill of cold metal piercing my skin. I opened my eyes to Mia threading the gash on my cheek up with steady hands, tying a tight not when finished. She shrank back when she noticed me awake. "Bled a lot, had to stitch it up."

"Thanks, kiddo." I groggily sat up, rubbing my eyes to the stream of light coming in from a crack. The noise of a crowd was muffled through the metal. "Did we…stop?"

Mia nodded, peering out the crack. "Yeah, like ten minutes ago or so…"

I jolted up onto my feet, gently pulling Mia away from the gap. Something could jump out, something…

In just that instant, the train doors slid open, two cargo off-loaders, shocked to see that they had to unlade kids, stared at them in astonishment. One of them mumbled under their breath in Spanish, something along the lines of _the cargo keeps on getting weirder and weirder._

I grabbed Mia's hand, jumping past them and high-tailing it towards the warehouse. Just under the company was the city where it was located. I silently cursed under my breath. We were still in Portland.

We'd need supplies. We'd need somewhere to hide. We needed….to see an old friend.


	2. Chapter 2: New Variable

****((AN: Well, there you all go! Chapter Two a week later! I think this one may be a bit longer...I wanted to get to end at a certain point. Ahem. So enjoy, I hope this chapter will suffice and chapter three will come along eventually! Later on it'll get a bit more exciting, but for now, I hope I got Nick, Hank, and Wu down on personalities. What do you think? Anywho...the whole _Grimm_ series is not mine, but this plot and it's characters (with the exception of Wu, Nick, Hank, and Sean) are mine, so hands off. I hope you enjoy this :D))

**Chapter 2: New Variable  
**

"…and the last fellow there is quite famous around here. Reads to little kids at libraries, gives a lot to charities, the whole good-guy deal." Sergeant Wu continued, pointing towards the file. "He's going to read at the public library in about an hour…Take a break, listen to nursery rhymes." He chuckled at his own joke, and wandered off into the mob of officers bustling about.

"So what do you think happened? A little girl pops up ten years later after a supposed death…that's not too common around here, huh?" Hank looked up from his work for a moment, deep in his work.

"Maybe…maybe someone wanted to make them look dead. There's a lot more to this than what we thought years ago. Where is she now?" Nick slid on his shirt, reading up on any news article featuring the bus explosion. "And why was Vincent Cordell's blood found at the crime scene?"

"Well then, let's do exactly what Wu said: listen to some nursery rhymes."

...

Navigating the streets of Portland proved harder than what the description of the city said. _Enjoy peaceful mornings with crisp winds! _Police cars swarming the streets and detectives searching for a girl who died years before sounded so peaceful.

At least I knew where we were heading wouldn't turn us in. Immediately, that is.

Mia's hand was still shaky as I pulled her along, like a frightened animal in the clutches of the ruthless poacher. I silently cursed myself for such a connection. It was all too real, but I would never kill Mia. I'd die for her.

Finally we came upon the brick building I half recognized from my childhood. I glanced down, watching the ghostly forms of two little girls get dragged away into the oblivion of memories.

The poor thing was faded with wear-and-tear from whatever nature and the city alike threw at it. A collage of graffiti ran along the side walls, the front drained of its previous color of bright red. It was almost sad, really. I expected better care from the man my father had watch over us for weeks on end. He must have been left heartbroken when the news of our 'deaths' met the news' headlines.

I walked up the concrete steps, amazed to see the key in the crack of the wall was still there, and unlocked the front door.

I was relieved to find his shop still as it was: odd bits and bobs from around the globe crowded one table, while the walls were lined with herbs and other tonics. I almost cried with relief. It was like I was back home, without a worry about running or taking care of Mia or hiding.

The feeling slipped away as soon as I felt the chill of a gun's barrel press against the back of my head.

"Turn around. Slowly." The gruff voice commanded, Mia whimpering in front of me . I obeyed, lifting my hands up. That's it. Game over. One hit K.O. Hello to the bars of jail.

That is, until I saw who was holding the gun.

The old face of a, well, old friend met me with a frown. His head was like a shriveled apple, red as hell with wrinkles of age and a tuft of gray hair on top. His head jerked back, and I was met with the snorting face of a Bauerschwein. He still looked like an apple, though.

He squealed like a pig twice before lowering the gun barrel slightly, an inquiring look plastered on his pudgy face. "Who…who are you?"

"I-It's me, Uncle Cal. It's me…" The rifle fell to the floor with a loud _clang_, and he shuffled over, suffocating Mia and me in a bear-hug.

"My little Bee and Mia! I thought…I thought…" He began to cry, something incredibly hard to ignore coming from a man, and put us down gently, blowing his nose into a hanky. "You're all over the news. I didn't think you'd...you'd…And the way you did it…" I winced, wishing he hadn't brought it up.

"I know…I didn't want to do it either, but if I hadn't…" I paused, glancing out the windows. "Our situation might be a bit more difficult."

He nodded, wiping his face clean of any remains of tears. "Yes, yes…but where have you been all these years? And why?"

I bit my lower lip, hoping that the details wouldn't be brought up. I was in no mood to talk about it, but if anyone deserved to know, it was him. "Is there any place a bit more…private? I'll explain a few things…"

...

"…and they lived happily forever after. The end." Vincent Cordell closed the book, smiling at the group of children seated on the library's carpet. "Now, what do we want to read next?" Little hands shot into the air, and he scanned the rows of raised arms to choose one.

"…he's right over there." The librarian paused, jittery in her old age. "And if you are here to arrest him…I assure you that he'd be the last one to do anything bad."

Nick and Hank exchanged glances, it was the third time someone had tried to deny his affiances with the murder of two fellow factory workers. The evidence couldn't, however, be revoked.

"Excuse me, Mr. Cordell is it? I'm Detective Burkhardt, and this is Detective Griffin, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions." Nick held up his badge for authorization.

Vincent looked up, his head jerking back and changing into the scaled face of a Lausenschlange. Nick stepped back, his knowledge of these Wesen leaning towards the dangerous side.

Hanky leaned over, watching Vincent with alarming eyes. "Is he doing the…the face-change thing?"

"Not now." Nick straightened, stepping aside. "If you will."

Vincent nodded, quickly instructing a little girl to read for a bit until he returned.

"Now, what you know about Beatrice DeCola."

...

Uncle Cal insisted that we all sit around a rather dusty dining room table and talk over a cup of cocoa laden in whipped cream. I wasn't in a mood for the drink, but he insisted, and I had no choice but to accept it.

"Well…" I didn't know where to begin. As soon as the blindfold was slipped on, or when I was forced to make a deal? Mia looked at me apprehensively, the cup quivering in her hands.

"The bus explosion….was more or less a cover-up, to put it in simplest terms."

Uncle Cal looked up from his drink, his snout covered in the white cream. "Cover-up? For what?" I couldn't risk telling him everything, if they caught us here and Calvin _knew_, then he'd be dead. Because of me.

"A kidnapping. Cal, listen…" I gulped down the lump in my throat, thinking of the best possible excuse. "…there's a lot you don't know, and it really is best if we keep you oblivious. You might've been told this a lot in the past, but it's to protect you. When…when I finish this, everyone will know. I promise you that."

...

"Beatrice DeCola? That's a name I haven't heard in, what, ten years?" Vincent Cordell took a sip of the coffee the police offered him, leaning back in his seat. "Her parents used to take her sister and her to the library sometimes to hear me read. Good kid, really. Smart one too."

The duo exchanged glances, his story adding a new variable to the search. "She had a sister?" Hank leaned forward, suddenly interested.

"Oh, yes. A few years younger, I think. I believe her name was Mia…Who, of course, was also a victim to the horrible accident ten years prior." He scrunched up his face in disbelief, staring at them oddly. "You don't believe that I have anything to do with this murder, do you?"

"Your blood was found at the scene of the crime, along with a strand of her hair. We just want to know what happened then." Nick answered for Hank, sitting back.

"Ah, yes, of course." Vincent paused, clearing this throat. "Well, as you know I'm the manager of the Portland _Farm's Best_ Egg Processing unit. Quite often, I have to work late to ensure everything is shut down and all the eggs are properly stored away. About two nights ago, I believe it was, I heard the backdoor to the factory slam shut. And, of course, I decided to go and check on everything. When I did…well, I wasn't met with a friendly face.

"As soon as I stepped out, I saw two figures fleeing from the door, carrying some kind of box. I assumed they had thieved from the factory, and took off after them. Two other works came with me; Frank and Ben Merriwether, in case they decided to attack back. Well, they did, as you can tell. As soon as we reached the clearing, the one figure—who I assume to have been Beatrice—slashed my chest with some form of curved blade. And you know what happened from there."

Nick glanced at the "mirror" behind Vincent, expecting the Captain to be analyzing his story for any suggestive lies. "Thank you, Mr. Cordell. Contact us if she returns, ok?" And with that, the two were gone, ready to discuss the story.

As soon as they released Vincent, the first thing he did was to make a call: To Germany.

"Yes, send anyone you have! Two Unbezahlbar for anyone who can capture my hen! And of course…anyone who can kill the Grimm."

* * *

((AN: Just to clear something up...Calvin isn't actually their biological uncle. He is just so close to their family (or what's left of it) that they consider him an uncle. He also runs a spice store, with all that crazy Wesen goodies just downstairs in the secret cellar.))


	3. Chapter 3: The Hunt Begins

****((AN: Oh how sorry I am for this being late...I just wasn't too energized this week and simply couldn't get anything done. But here it is! At last! Hopefully this will satisfy you all...and sorry it's terrible, but it's going to get better, I swear! I like to work on multiple things at once, so that explains that...Ahem. I don't own the whole Grimm thing (but I do own all the characters besides Nick, Wu, the Captain, and any other canon character I mentioned PLUS this plot line is mine) and stuff. Umm...don't know what else to say xD! Enjoy your weekend I guess and Happy Halloween even though it's like next week...I'm uploading this late, so I'm a bit tired x) Well...enjoy and night ^^.))

**Chapter 3: The Hunt**

"I kept your rooms the same…well, besides the toys of course. I donated them all…err, at least the ones you two didn't love so much." Uncle Cal trudged up the stairwell to the rooms above the shop, his thick waist just fitting through the narrow passage. He stopped at the room Mia and I shared, opening the squeaky door with a gentle push.

He was right, the room hadn't changed one bit. The walls still had that ugly pink striped wallpaper that was a lot more peeled than I remember, and there was a distinct layer of dust on practically everything.

Mia ran right through it, gingerly lifting a limp doll from her old bed, getting teary-eyed at the sight of her old friend. "Y-You…kept this?"

Calvin nodded, and pointed to my bed, where a doll almost identical to hers sat, dull and dirty with age. "And yours, too, Bee. You two used to always play with them and pretend they ran my shop down there…" He sniffled, recalling a memory long forgotten since we vanished. It must've been hard for him to accept that we would never come back. Well, for the meantime.

I really didn't know how to react. All those years being hardened and forced to grow up strangled me from the simple happiness of a seeing a past joy. To sum it up, I basically trudged over to my bed and asked what time we should be hiding between the shop hours.

Uncle Calvin looked at me funny, before letting out a choked laugh. "Oh, I haven't opened that thing up in a long time…couldn't bring myself to do it. And now it just looks horrible…I see no point, really."

I knew it pained him to have to see his shop—the one he loved to work at so much—a shadow of its former glory. I let out a sigh, which stirred a lot more dust up than I anticipated, and gave him a half-hearted smile. "C'mon, let's clean this place up."  
...

"Just got a tip from a warehouse near the train cargo center; two works saw our suspect hiding in the train cars with someone else. Her sister, maybe." Hank slid into his seat, using the police search engine to look up any files on the entire family unit. "They fled the scene, heading for the warehouse. Wu only found some footprints, but other than that, no other evidence of them being there."

"Trying to escape the state, maybe?" Nick looked up from his work, sliding his chair over to look at Hank's screen.

"I bet so. If Vincent was telling the truth—maybe they didn't want to stick around for a police visit."

"But they didn't escape via train, which is in fact the only one that leaves the state to a city just along the Oregon border." Hank looked at him funny, wondering how he suddenly knew so much about trains. "Decided to dig a little into the train business."

"Uh-huh, right…" Hank chuckled, swinging his coat on. "Which means Beatrice and possibly her sister are still in Portland."

...

Vincent Cordell didn't like to wait.

He didn't care what it may be for, from waiting for one last person to arrive at a meeting to the slow service at most restaurants, but it was _painful_. And even more so when he was scheduled to meet with a group of misfits who promised to bring back his hen, and kill the Grimm.

_Grimm_. He loathed the word. This was all happening because of a Grimm, because she got tired of being bossed around and having to lead others into a trap. It was all _her_ fault, and he was going to make her suffer. No matter the cost.

After another good twenty minutes, three different cars rolled up behind the abandoned building, windows tinted and contents hidden.

He knew that at least two were Grimm Reapers, professionals at their job but slow nonetheless. And the rest were just a band of whoever was up for good pay.

Once they got their bearings and were armed with their toys, Vincent spread his arms out in a gesture of opportunity. "Welcome! I do believe you all know _exactly_ why you're here. To retrieve something I've _lost. _You know what the reward is for the Seltenvogel alive, and the Grimm either." He walked up-and-down the row of killers, halting before the shortest of the bunch, turning to face the dwarfed assassin.

"And you…haha! Who let the kid come here?" A few of the other spared a smile, while Vincent laughed at his own joke. The small bounty hunter didn't move an inch, or say a word.

"I have an idea! We'll send little pipsqueak here first to try and find 'em. The rest of us can wait until their find you decapitated, and have a drink in the meantime, eh?" He knew this band of killers—well, except one—would never ignore their job with him. A bit of humor, he believed, could break the ice in any situation.

One Grimm Reaper stepped forward, his eyes iced over with years of hunting and killing. "Vere did you last see zis…Grimm?"

"Eh? Oh! Well, reports came in today that she's still in town, boys! Hiding somewhere out there…easy to spot with such white hair." He turned, walking towards his car. "When you get her…deliver the body in a box labeled chicken feed to my office directly after. And my hen…we can send pipsqueak to do a little retrieval, eh?" And thus he let, unable to silence his laughter aimed at the smallest.

The last to remain of the group, the one left who took the ridicule with silence. His head jerked back, and his jacket puffed out.

"I'll make chicken-man eat his words."

...

Mia hummed gently to herself as she removed jars and bottles of strangely colored powders from the shop's shelves to clean them, sneezing more than she ever had as dust billowed up.

The experience to finally be free of that factory…and be free of worrying that she may suffocate from having the Unbezahlbar stuck in her throat. It was…wonderful. Yet she'd felt like that for so long, that freedom seemed so unreal, like an illusion. She almost wanted to be back in her cage, and not exposed to the world around her.

She glanced over at her sister, watching her gawk at the odd assortment of bits and bobs Uncle Cal still had. Most of it was from when they were kids, and though she remembered little of it, she could almost sense the fuzzy images of memories reminding her of the little things.

The shop still had a bunch of work to be done, and Uncle Cal was out buying new supplies to sell and help fix up the old place.

Mia settled down after a fit of sneezing, her Seltenvogel form reflecting a golden tint on the walls. She wanted to stay here forever, learn to make potions like Ma did, and maybe put all this behind her…it was far-farfetched, but it could be done in time.

Beatrice caught her gaze, a protective aura surrounding her body, sending her to Mia's side. "What's up? You seem a bit distant."

"I….I dunno. It's just…It seems like being at that place was all I knew, what I grew up in. I feel a bit out of place here, away from that…Sounds silly, right?" She chuckled gently, pulling Beatrice into a hug. "I really should feel grateful to be away from it."

"Nah, it's not. I feel a bit like that too…" Beatrice stared off, and Mia could sense there was more to it than what she was giving.

"What is it?" Her body trembled slightly in habit, slowly retracing from her sister. Mine as well talk as they work.

"Eh…nothing. I was just…" She trailed off, gazing out the window. "I'll repaint the exterior. Can't risk you being whisked away…again."

Mia crawled off of the counter-top, slowly putting the polished jars back in their place. Rainbow-colored order, of course. "They might recognize you, sis."

Beatrice was silent for some time, which worried Mia. It usually meant she was going to do something brash and often stupid.

"I know."

...

He was infuriated. No, that was an understatement, he was beyond that, something much more sinister…deep hatred mixed with something else. Something…

_Gah! You should be focusing on getting the prize, while instead you struggle to sort out what you think of that…that…_ His thoughts trailed off, and he was once more stuck with describing how humiliated he was before those…_barbarians._

A lame insult, he knew, but it was the only thing that came to mind. Perhaps it was Vincent's ways of achieving a fortune, or the Grimm Reapers professional handling of any Grimm problem, or that everyone else had some sort of _nickname_ for their deeds. _Blake the Slayer? Bor-ing!_

His motives ran deeper than to "keep the balance" or "get great pay." No, it ran much deeper. Revenge could've been the correct term, but the mere mention of it made him sound like an insane person who strove for nothing else than to get vengeance for a past deed. This _deed_ was what called him to be here in the first place, so far from his native lands and the sticky sap that fell from pine needles.

The lazy scent of pine only reminded him of what happened _that night_, so long ago that his memory many times before warped the truth with a string of lies to make it seem more real than it was.

It was _his _fault, the man who came that night and turned to violence…and soon, heads were rolling around on the ground, while his younger self clung to a broken twig on the ground, too little to understand. Too little to comprehend what Grimms truly were: a vicious race that took sport to beheading the Wesen who opposed them, who were indeed the boogy-men hiding under the bed, the secret society of people who made sure they stood on top, their animal counterparts beneath their feet in defeat.

He shook his head of the memory, getting no curious glances from the people passing by on the streets, unaware that they passed by a killer sent to collect a girl and kill her sister. To them, he was just a teen going about on his adventures in the small town of Portland.

Devon smiled faintly to himself, oh how looks can be deceiving.

So truly deceiving...


End file.
